


A New Master

by devilinthedetails



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Prequel Trilogy
Genre: Gen, Padawan, adjustments, master - Freeform, master-padawan bonding
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-09
Updated: 2019-12-09
Packaged: 2021-02-26 02:54:35
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,106
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21726334
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/devilinthedetails/pseuds/devilinthedetails
Summary: Anakin adjusts to his new Master. Set during the end of TPM.
Comments: 3
Kudos: 47





	A New Master

A New Master 

Anakin gazed down from the gilded balcony of the palace visitor quarters he had been given to share with Obi-Wan as his new Master cut his hair into a style befitting the Padawan he now was. Sitting still might have been difficult for him—he got bored when he was expected to stay in one place for too long—if there hadn’t been so much activity in the city square below him. 

Couples strolled arm in arm from shop to shop. Children squealed and splashed in the jets of water shooting from a fountain in the center of the square while their laughing watched from benches. Friends sipped drinks and ate fine foods as they dined at the many tables various eateries had placed on patios overlooking the square filled with so much simple joy in living. 

Theed, Anakin thought, was sweet with the smell of victory and freedom from the Trade Federation. He inhaled it in the rich scent of the flowered garlands hanging from every arch and railing. He heard it in the tinkling music of the small fountain on the balcony beside him, water streaming from a spigot elaborately carved with animals native to Naboo to collect in a red-tiled basin before being recycled into the spigot again in an endless, flowing loop. 

He had never seen fountains before he came to Naboo. On Tatooine, water was too precious a commodity to waste on mere beautiful displays, but on Naboo everything seemed built for beauty. He wished with an intensity that made his heart ache that his mother could join him on this balcony to see the gorgeous fountains of Naboo. She would love them, he was certain. 

“It’s amazing there’s so much water in the galaxy,” Anakin murmured more to himself than to his new Master. He had never known there was so much before he arrived on Naboo. 

“You’ve only seen a fraction of the water in the galaxy.” Obi-Wan snipped away at Anakin’s hair, and Anakin tried not to think about how much of his old self was being shorn away. “There are worlds like Mon Cala covered almost entirely by water, and worlds whose surface is completely snow and ice.” 

“Snow and ice are just frozen water.” Anakin was proud that he knew this fact that snow and ice were just different, solider forms of water. Water had fascinated him so much that he had already performed several deep Holonet searches on the topic. 

“Yes.” Obi-Wan kept clipping. “Yet somehow we never refer to worlds covered in snow and ice as water worlds. A quirk of the Basic language, I suppose.”

Silence settled between them as Obi-Wan finished cutting Anakin’s hair, leaving some strands at their former length to be woven into a braid. 

“I’ll look like a real Padawan when you’re done braiding my hair, won’t I, Master?” Anakin had to fight the temptation to squirm excitedly as he posed this question. 

“Yes, you will.” Obi-Wan paused in braiding Anakin’s hair, and Anakin’s forehead furrowed, wondering what wrong thing he had said now. “I’ve been thinking, Anakin. You don’t have to call me Master right away.” 

“Why not?” Anakin frowned. It did feel weird to call Obi-Wan Master because it made him think of Watto and Qui-Gon—two memories that brought him pain in different ways—but it felt like a rejection of the relationship he and Obi-Wan were trying to build for Obi-Wan to say he didn’t have to call him Master when that, as far as Anakin understood it, was what Padawans were supposed to do. 

“Given your history, I thought…” Obi-Wan was obviously too refined a person to use the harsh term “slave,” but Anakin understood the delicate, unspoken implication anyway. “Well, I thought you might not be comfortable calling me Master, and I can be patient. I can wait until you’re ready to call me Master.” 

Obi-Wan, Anakin realized, wasn’t trying to reject him. He was trying to be patient with him. 

“It’s customary for a Padawan to call the Jedi training him Master, isn’t it?” Anakin still had a lot to learn about Obi-Wan, but he had figured out that Obi-Wan valued tradition the way he did adventure. 

“Yes.” Anakin could hear the wry smile in Obi-Wan’s voice and see it in his face when he tilted his chin up to look at the man who had been braiding his hair. “But if Qui-Gon taught me anything it was that there is an exception for every rule, and sometimes knowing when to make an exception is more important than knowing the rule.” 

Anakin thought that enough exceptions had already been made with regard to his training that he was assured to be a target of eternal gossip and speculation when they returned to the Temple, so he responded after a moment, “I’m ready to call you Master. I’d like to call you Master.” 

“I’m glad.” Obi-Wan resumed braiding Anakin’s hair, and Anakin felt a gentle ripple of affection through the Force bond he was beginning to forge with his Master that made him feel warm inside. 

He sat still while Obi-Wan finished braiding, but as soon as Obi-Wan was done, he gave a gleeful dance and whoop. “I’ll look like a real Padawan for the victory ceremony, won’t I, Master?” 

“That’s the point, Padawan.” Obi-Wan emitted a soft chuckle at his exuberance. 

“I hope I don’t make a fool of myself.” Anakin stopped dancing as it occurred to him how awful it would be to embarrass himself in front of Padme. His stomach knotted as he worried that he might look like a proper Padawan but do something to betray the fact that he didn’t belong in the presence of such exalted folks—something to prove that he could never truly be part of their exclusive company. 

“You won’t.” Obi-Wan gave his shoulder a reassuring squeeze. “Just follow my lead, and you’ll be fine.” 

“Yes, Master.” Anakin nodded, enthusiastic about any pan that might diminish his risk of making a fool of himself in front of Padme at the victory ceremony the next day. “I’ll watch you and do everything you do.” 

“You learn quickly.” Obi-Wan’s tone was approving, and Anakin basked like a lizard in the desert sun in that. 

“I have to,” he reminded his new Master matter-of-factly. “Since I started my Jedi training so late.” 

“You have to learn at your own pace.” Obi-Wan patted his shoulder. “That’s the Jedi teaching.” 

“My pace is very fast.” Anakin grinned. “Fast as a Podracer.” 

“Wonderful,” remarked Obi-Wan tartly. “I hope it’s not quite as uncontrolled and prone to crashing…”


End file.
